


Running Lines

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 08:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13900185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: The reader is an actress on the Walking Dead, playing the close friend and eventual love interest of Daryl Dixon, opposite Norman Reedus.  Usually her role comes easily to her, but when the script calls for her to lose her temper with Daryl, she struggles to summon up the necessary anger for the scene, until Norman steps in to help her out.





	Running Lines

Norman stalked across the set towards you, radiating hostility, his eyes flicking between the crew members working at the edge of the prison yard.  He nodded his head at you in greeting, throwing himself down heavily on the picnic bench and crossing his arms.  It was something you really struggled with at work, even having been with the cast since pretty much the very beginning: some of the actors stayed in character throughout the entire day, finding it easier to focus on their upcoming scenes that way.  Andy did it, maintaining his American South twang between takes, and Norman kept up Daryl’s grouchy, tortured attitude as much as he possibly could.  

For you, it caused the lines between fantasy and reality to blur, and you felt instantly uncomfortable as your next scene partner glowered at you.  Usually you got off pretty lightly with Norman.  Your characters were close so, even when he was giving everyone else the cold shoulder, you’d be pulled into his lap in the canteen or wrapped in a warm hug as you stood behind the camera, but today the script required you to go full-on crazy at him, so you were definitely in the bad books.  It was a scene dealing with the fallout from your characters’ first real kiss on the bonnet of an old truck. Daryl had just sent Jack up to the guard tower to sit with you, and the script had you storming over to him and screeching at him like a thing possessed.  You’d done fight scenes with him before, of course, but it was usually either him yelling his head off or you acting sullen and stubborn.  This was new, and you felt awkward, unsure how to slip into the right frame of mind.

Trying to break the tension, you slunk over to the bench, dropping down beside Norman and nudging him with your elbow.

‘You doing okay there, Norm?’

’M'fine.’  The growl of his voice was pure Dixon, and it did little to ease your discomfort.

‘Long day, huh?’

He shot you a venomous look, narrowing his eyes as he spat, ‘Don’ ya have a damn job to do?’

‘Right.’  You watched as he pulled a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, lighting one up as the director called for you to get in position.  'Here we go.’

 

* * *

 

You stretched your aching shoulders, wiping sweat from your brow as you headed back to your trailer, feeling disheartened and frustrated.  You’d spent all afternoon going over and over the same scene, completely unable to get it right.  The director had been great, trying to explain where you were going wrong, but no matter what you did, you couldn’t loosen up enough to make your anger believable.  You didn’t know what was throwing you off.  You could give good snark on camera, the queen of quick put-downs and catty comments, and you’d been fine putting Rooker in his place as Merle, but shouting at Norman felt unnatural.  You just couldn’t get into the right head space and now it was holding up filming.

‘Hey, Y/N, wait up!’  A shout came from behind you just as you began to climb the stairs that would lead you to your peace and solitude, and you turned, exasperated, to see Norman jogging over to you.  'You alright, sweetheart?  What was goin’ on with you today?’

His Southern drawl was gone, his words pronounced properly for the most part, so you knew that you were now talking to Norman and not Daryl.  'I don’t know, I’m sorry.  I was useless out there!  I just couldn’t get there in my head, y'know?’

‘Yeah, I could tell.  What was trippin’ you up?  Is there anything I can do?’  His eyes were kind, his expression concerned under the layers of Dixon dirt, and you could tell he was asking for you and not for the sake of the scene.

‘I’m not sure,’ you admitted.  'I just need to rehearse it more, I guess.  This whole angry, shouty thing doesn’t come that naturally to me.’

‘That’s a good thing,’ he reassured you, reaching for your hand and tugging you back down the steps so that he could pull you into his embrace.  Despite his grubby appearance, he smelt good, like citrus and tobacco, and you felt yourself relax in his arms.  'Hey, what d'you say we rehearse together tonight?’

‘I don’t know, Norm.  I’m pretty tired.’  In reality, you were embarrassed that your shortcomings were forcing him to put in extra hours, and didn’t want to take up any more of his time.  'I’ll be fine.  I’ll work it out on my own.’

'C'mon,’ he teased, unwilling to give up that easily.  'My place, pizza, running lines until you wanna scream… Who can say no to that?’

When you didn’t respond, he gave you a smug smile.  'Great, get your ass out of that hick get-up and meet me by the bike, okay?  You’ve got 10 minutes.’

 

* * *

 

'What the hell was that?’

'Nope, again.’

'What the hell was that?’

'One more time.’

'What the hell was that?’

Norman sighed, pushing himself up from the wall he was leaning against and moving towards you, yanking your script from your hand and tossing it onto the coffee table.  'You gotta put some passion into it, Y/N.  You’ve gotta make me feel that rage.’

'I can’t just summon up passion, Norman.’

'Yeah, you can.  I watch you do it every damn day.’  He was pacing up and down in front of you now, pulling on his fingers in frustration.  'You’re so passionate about your work, and it shows, so why can’t you get this?’

'I don’t know,’ you whined, running your hand through your hair and turning to face the wall so that he wouldn’t see the heat reddening your cheeks, the tears welling up in your eyes.  You were so damn angry with yourself for messing this up again and again.  'Maybe it’s a different type of passion?  I just… I can’t do it, Norm!’

'You can,’ he snapped, tiredness making him edgy.  'I just gotta figure out how to get you there.’

'What do you mean?’

He rounded on you, his eyes menacing as he stepped towards you, getting up in your face.  'Why can’t you get this, little girl?  Playing with the big boys on primetime and you can’t even deliver a fucking line, right?  Maybe you should go back to your little drama club, huh?  You’re not cut out for this!’

'What?’  You were shocked by the sneer on his face, the venom behind his words.  'Is that really what you think?’

'It doesn’t matter what I think,’ he smirked.  'Soon as the writers realise that you’re screwing up their show, your ass will be out in the cold, sweetheart.’

'Norman…’

'They only hired you so they could dress you up in skimpy little outfits and keep the slackjawed perverts watching, anyway.’  His voice was razor sharp, cutting you to the bone and laying out your biggest insecurities for all to see.  'Didn’t you notice that those shorts get a little shorter every season?  Anything to distract from the lack of actual talent, right?’

You couldn’t help the choked sob that forced its way up your throat, but that just seemed to encourage him.

'Oh, what?  You gonna cry now?  Gonna go running home to call mommy?  Tell her what the big mean man said to you?  Grow the hell up!’

The tears that had built up in frustration now spilled over as you opened and closed your mouth dumbly, unable to believe that he was speaking to you this way.  You’d always considered yourself to have a pretty good relationship with him, your natural chemistry shining through on the show, and now it seemed like he was an even better actor than you’d first imagined.  

Instead of rejoicing in your breakdown though, Norman’s face was softening, his arms reaching out for you, pulling you against his chest.  'God, I’m sorry, Y/N.  I was trying to make you mad!  You weren’t meant to get upset!’

'You what?’  You pulled away from him, fixing him with an icy stare.

'I was trying to get you riled up, so that you could get where you needed to be for the scene.  I didn’t mean any of that stuff.’

'You didn’t?’  You felt like you were lagging behind, struggling to keep up with his sudden about turn, still stinging from his cruel taunts.  'You’re a jerk!’

'I was just trying to get a reaction,’ he argued, lifting his hands up in defense as you shook your head at him.  'Okay, okay, bad idea.’

'You think?’  Much as you hated to admit it, you could feel the warmth of anger simmering somewhere inside of you, though you’d never give him the satisfaction of thinking his sick little game had worked, and it still wasn’t enough.

Something unidentifiable passed across his expression so quickly that you almost missed it, and then his sadistic grin returned, and he moved towards you once more.  'I got a new idea.’

Before you knew what was happening, he’d grabbed your hips, his fingers biting into your skin as he pulled you into him, leaning down to capture your mouth in a hot, frantic kiss.  Your teeth clashed as he toyed with you, running his tongue across your bottom lip, before sinking into you, his hand sliding to the back of your neck so that he could tilt your head up towards him.  You were too taken aback to react at first, your brain racing to catch up with this new turn of events, but when you started feeling breathless and he was still aggressively attacking your lips, you placed your hands on his chest and shoved him roughly backwards.

'What the hell was that?’

His eyes lit up, as he rubbed his hand over his mouth, nodding in encouragement.  'That’s it!  Again.’

'What the hell was that?

'What the hell was what?’  He slipped seamlessly into character, gesturing with his hand for you to keep going.

'You sending Jack up to keep watch with me!  What part of that seemed like a good idea to you, Daryl?!’

'Jus’ thought ya could use the company, s'all.’

'Bullshit!’  You spat the word at him, breathing heavily, your cheeks flushed, and he nodded his head proudly, raising his hands to give you a slow clap.

'That’ll do.  You got it!  I knew you could do it!’

You exhaled loudly, giggling as relief flooded through you.  'Thank God.  You might’ve just saved my ass, y'know?’

A lascivious grin crossed his features, and he raised an eyebrow at you.  'Trust me, it was my pleasure.’

Something stirred within you, something new but tempting, and you mirrored his expression, taking a step towards him and tilting your head to one side.  'What if I can’t get it back tomorrow?  The passion, I mean.  What if I lose it again?’

'Oh, sweetheart, I can definitely help you out with that.’


End file.
